Strawberries & Grapes
by MmmmChineseFood
Summary: What could a servant offer to a Prince? Apparently, a lot. [Oneshot]


Disclaimer: No worries, I don't own Naruto.

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Once upon a time, there was a wonderful little girl whose worth was close to nothing.

The Prince knew this, his people knew this, and most of all- the girl knew this. _How do I know this?_ you might ask. My answer is simple- I was that little girl. I was one peasant of many, living and slaving in a kingdom greater than you can imagine. A fate less than I deserved among people greater than I deserved.

Regardless, my nine year old self had no understanding of this. My child-like mind paid no attention to the tasks that spilled from dawn to dusk. I had no qualms with walking barefoot through the wilderness to retrieve a single strawberry. I gladly bent my back to scrub the floors, ran through hallways to greet my masters, and took the beatings for my errors.

Why?

Because I was loved, and loved back just as fiercely. How such a great emotion was mastered at such a young age is still a mystery to me. I have known love, now more than ever. And when I look at the facets of color in the eyes of those I love, I know a set is missing among them. The set of blue eyes belonging to the first true love of my life. The blue eyes of Prince Naruto.

At five I found him to be the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I was assigned his servant two years later, and rejoiced from it. When my eyes weren't following the young Prince, they were trained to the woman at court. I copied their mannerisms of beauty, from the smiles they graced at young men to the way in which they brushed and braided their hair. I embarrassed myself around the other servants at night. I twirled in that horrendous excuse for a dress, tattered and hanging from my bones like a blanket.

Their laughter didn't detract me from my goal. I continued imitating the court dances, tripping on my feet until I had battle scars from my attempts. My determination hardened. I took each lesson as a challenge, and forced my head to compete with my heart.

My efforts were rewarded at age twelve.

My prince's smile, jovial and perpetual in it's presence, had subsided. His large blue eyes had dwindled to embers, his body limp and splayed across the bed he couldn't find the strength to leave. The Queen had left the world, and took her son's heart with her.

I brought platters of food to his chamber, only to take it away in the night. It remained untouched. Even the strawberries and grapes the young Lord salivated over remained. He'd feign sleep as soon as someone came in to see him; servant or royal family, it did not matter. Each sunset of his silence chipped away the bits and pieces of my soul. For the first time since laying eyes upon him, I feared. I crawled into my own abyss and crawled out each new morning.

It took half a season to stand from my cot. I scratched and clawed the tears from my cheeks. I escaped the meager shelter of my peers and grabbed the hems of my clothing. I danced the entire night, my bare toes pulling up grass and toenails taking in dirt. The next morning I left tracks of my awakening from the kitchen to his bedroom.

His feigned sleep had become more authentic. The little prince was shutting down, but I would not allow it. I locked his door with a silence only a child could achieve. I marched against his wooden floors, swallowed hard, and threw his tray against the wall. The prince awoke to food across his spotless room and a little girl with redden eyes daring him to look away.

He did not back down, and neither did I.

I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. The pain clouded my nerves enough to cease my shaking. Only then, and very slowly, did I begin to hum. I hummed the sweetest thing I could muster. It was terrible, but I had no room to worry, and no time to try again.

My feet moved next. They shifted across the floorboards in mastered patterns and steps. My dress flowed against air in perfect imitation. My arms took a life of their own in time with the rhythm of my voice. My eyes closed, willing my mind to focus on anything but the Prince's blue gaze.

With too big of a flourish and a well hidden trip, my body came to a halt.

It must have been a sight- my reddened eyes, dirt smeared skin and swollen bottom lip. My lungs were contracting too heavily. The sound beat against my ears in the same manner my heart was doing against my chest. I fought to keep my eyes from drifting to the floor and my fingers from poking into each other.

I could hear another sound now. The guards were throwing themselves against the door, shouting at the Prince to lessen their fears. Instead of answering, he did something mesmerizing.

He laughed.

It spun into a fit of coughs due to his weakened state. Each inch of me craved to be beside him. But my coward reemerged, keeping me in place with downtrodden eyes. Yet, it was okay. My Prince didn't need me anymore. He collected himself, and then he smiled. It stretched across his perfect features. It was the return of his joy.

The pounding on the doors was a terrible noise to accompany the weeping of my heart. It was a terrible climax to be taken away as soon as the door busted.

But it didn't matter.

His revived eyes were enough to collect the pieces of my broken soul. His slow smile was enough to force them back together. The Prince survived, and I had saved him.


End file.
